Allergic to You
by whitetiger91
Summary: Despite his differences, like any mother, Violetta only wants what is best for her son.


**This story was written for The Houses Competition, Year 5, Round Two. **

**House: Gryffindor**

**Class subject: Defence Against the Dark Arts**

**Story category: Standard**

**Prompt:** **2\. ****[Speech] "I think I'm allergic to you"**

**Word count: 2484 words so far (Google docs)**

**Beta: Crissie (secretfanficlover), Vee (Verity Grahams), Seth (White Eyebrow)**

**Extra: Whilst Marius was disowned at one point for being a Squib, it's my headcanon that his mother fought for him. Allergies (including Anaphylaxis) are very serious, and I don't take them lightly with this; pollen also may be very 'stereotypical' in terms sneezing, but it fit best. :) **

* * *

**Allergic to You **

For a cold winter evening, the atmosphere at 12 Grimmauld Place was quite pleasant.

Violetta relaxed in her armchair, revelling in the way the crackling flames from the fireplace warmed the side of her face. She'd intended to finish the novel she'd been reading, or at least make a start on her embroidery, but the sound of soft laughter had made it impossible to concentrate. Her attention was instead focused on the two children playing by the low coffee table. The smallest, Dorea, had her grey eyes trained on her brother, transfixed by the way he folded a piece of parchment into the shape of a crane.

"See, Dory? You can turn paper into anything you want if you just use your imagination," Marius said, holding the paper crane out to her.

Dorea clapped her hands. "That's magical!"

Violetta's heart skipped a beat. She watched Marius' face closely, waiting for the tears to spring to his eyes. Even though it had been months since the Hogwarts Express had set off for Hogwarts without him, and even longer since the Healer had confirmed their worst fears, she knew her son was still hurting. The eleven-year-old's eyes did appear a little red, but a small smile soon lit up his pale face.

"Yeah…" he said, nodding slowly. "You're right, Dory; it _is_ magical."

She glanced over at her husband, bracing herself for one of his usual snarky remarks. She was sure he'd point out that it wasn't real magic, or that he'd reprimand the children for being too loud. A deep frown marred Cygnus' forehead, but his dark eyes were focused upon _The Evening Prophet _resting on his lap. Wisps of smoke drifted from the pipe in his hand; when he lifted it to his lips to take a puff, his eyes remained on the newspaper.

Whether he'd heard the children's conversation or not, she wasn't sure, but she wasn't going to disturb the peace. Allowing a smile of her own to grace her lips, she turned her attention back to the children. It'd been a while since they'd all been in the same room without tears or raised voices, and somehow, it made the room feel warmer.

"Marius! Do one of these!" Dorea said, her golden curls bobbing in front of her face as she crawled over to her brother.

"Dorea, no—"

Too late, Violetta realised that she'd plucked out a chrysanthemum from a crystal vase. She'd forgotten that she'd left the flowers on the table; she'd meant to throw them out as soon as her luncheon had finished. Before she could get up and snatch them from Dorea's hands, the blonde had thrust the posie under Marius' nose.

_Achoo!_

Marius' eyes scrunched up as he let out a huge sneeze. When he opened them again, she could see that they'd become redder.

_Achoo!_

She quickly pulled the flower out of Dorea's hand and threw it into the fireplace. The flames licked at it, painting the pretty petals and stems black.

"Are you alright, Marius?" she asked, ignoring Dorea's pout.

He nodded with a sniffle. His nose and cheeks were red, and when he looked up at her, his grey eyes were watery.

"Of course he's not fine. He's a Squib, isn't he?" Cygnus threw aside his newspaper. He glared at Marius over the top of his pipe. "And now the boy's got 'allergies.' Pathetic."

Marius sniffed and stared down at his feet. Although the other flowers were still there, she knew it wasn't just his allergies that caused his eyes to water now.

"Why don't you take Dorea upstairs and get ready for bed? I'll get the elf to draw you a bath," she said, smiling at Marius. When the children left, she fixed a steely gaze on her husband. "We've been over this before, Cygnus. You know Marius can't help his allergies, nor can he help that he's a Squ—that he's different from us."

Cygnus stood up, his cheeks growing red. "You can't even say it, can you? He's a Squib. A filthy, rotten _Squib_!"

"He's still your son! That's not going to change whether he has or hasn't got magic or allergies; you'd know that if you spent time with him."

Cygnus rolled his eyes as he paced the room, tendrils of smoke following him. A vein pulsed on his forehead, and she braced herself for a tirade.

He suddenly stopped and turned to face her. Pulling his pipe away from his mouth, he sat back down in his armchair.

"You're right; it isn't his fault that he's so weak," he said, locking his cold gaze onto hers. "It's _yours_."

Violetta blinked. "My fault? How is it my fault?"

Cygnus shook his head, picking up his newspaper. "You're always trying to fix his problems. I think it's best that I do spend more time with the boy. He'll never amount to much, but perhaps _I_ won't make him weaker."

He resumed reading the _Prophet_. She glared at him, torn between wanting to admonish him for his rude remarks, and feeling relieved that perhaps things would truly go back to normal. Before they'd realised Marius really couldn't do magic, Cygnus would spend hours after work with him and Pollux, teaching their sons about their proud history. If Cygnus resumed this, maybe he would realise that Marius was no different to the boy he'd once revered.

She closed her mouth and settled back into her armchair, silently praying that things would work out.

* * *

Breakfast the following morning was, as Violetta had feared, a tense affair. Cygnus refused to make conversation, only looking up from the mail long enough to roll his eyes when she'd bade Marius a good morning. Marius had quietly taken his seat, and was now stirring his eggs around his plate with his fork. Dorea was the only one oblivious to the tension; she was humming as she played with her new paper crane.

Violetta turned to her son. "I was thinking of taking a stroll through the park with Dorea later. Would you like to come with us?"

Normally, this would elicit a grin from Marius, but he simply shrugged his shoulders. "I guess…"

From the head of the table, Cygnus cleared his throat. "Actually, he won't be doing that. Marius and I are going to be quite busy today."

Marius raised his head. "Really?"

Violetta shot a stern look at Cygnus, warning him to be gentle, and nodded. "I believe your father has something special planned for you."

Marius was gazing at her, his eyes full of what seemed to be a mixture of uncertainty and hope. She wanted to squeeze his hand to let him know that it was alright but settled instead for giving him another reassuring smile.

"Erm, thank you, Father," he said, turning to Cygnus but not quite meeting his gaze.

"Yes, well, we mustn't dawdle. Come, boy, we should get started," Cygnus said, scraping back his chair.

Marius gave her another hesitant look before quickly standing and following him out of the room. Violetta wanted nothing more than to follow them; she had no idea what Cygnus had planned, and an ominous feeling settled in her stomach. What if he upset Marius again? What if he damaged their relationship beyond repair?

Dorea had got up from her chair, however, and was now tugging on her hand. She had no choice but to allow the six-year-old to drag her in the opposite direction, and hoped that her son would be okay.

* * *

"How was your day?" Violetta tried to keep the worry out of her voice as she helped her son to bed.

Marius' eyes had been bright red and watery when she'd returned home that afternoon, and although he'd tried to hide it by surreptitiously wiping it on his sleeve, his nose had been running. She hadn't had the chance to enquire about his day, however, as Cygnus had hovered around, and the last thing she wanted was to ignite his anger again. With her husband now back downstairs smoking his pipe and Dorea sound asleep, she was free to ensure Marius' day was okay.

He yawned as he snuggled against his pillow. "It was alright. Father taught me about Herbology," he said.

This time, it was anger she had to keep from seeping into her voice. "He taught you about Herbology knowing you have allergies? That man, I have half a mind to—"

"No, it's okay," Marius said, shaking his head. "I did sneeze a bit, but Father said I ought to get used to it, and soon it wasn't so bad."

"As long as you weren't unhappy…"

"No, it was fun," he said, smiling.

Violetta sighed. "Alright, if you're sure," she said, returning his smile before scanning the titles of books by his bed. "Well, mister, it's time for bed. Which story would you like me to read tonight? _Babbity Rabbity? The Fountain of Fair Fortune?_"

Marius looked at the books wearily. "Maybe you shouldn't read a story."

She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

Her son fiddled with the hem of his quilt. "Father says real wizards don't get read bedtime stories. I know I'm not a real wizard, but I don't think I should, either."

Her annoyance flared up again. "He did, did he?"

Marius nodded. "He thinks that you… nevermind. I'm tired, anyway," he said, opening his mouth again, this time in a very unconvincing yawn. "Goodnight, Mama."

"Okay… Goodnight, my handsome boy," she said, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

He closed his eyes and she quietly left the room. Only when she was outside the half-open door did she allow the disappointment and doubt to well within her. What was Cygnus telling him? Was it a good idea to have them together, after all?

Peering through the door, she saw that Marius' thin lips were pulled into a small smile. He did appear to be happier than he had for some time, and Cygnus hadn't given up on him… Sighing, she closed the door completely and headed back downstairs, vowing to keep a closer eye on him.

* * *

"I suppose I'll be off now… Are you sure you don't want to come with me?"

Violetta looked at Marius, who was reading in front of the fire, and waited for him to slam his book shut and leap up. He loved visiting Diagon Alley.

He started to get up, but then glanced at Cygnus, who was also reading in his armchair. The man didn't look up but gave a small grunt. Marius turned to her and shrugged.

"I'm sure," he said, turning back to his book. She peered over his shoulder, seeing that it was Pollux's old Potions textbook. "Father and I are going to create a Wiggenweld Potion."

"I see… Well, alright, have fun, and be careful… I'll pick you up some sweets..."

"I don't think he needs any sweets," Cygnus said.

Violetta sighed and grabbed a handful of Floo powder from the small brass pot on the mantle. She loved that Cygnus had spent the last few months with Marius, but she missed her son. She paused before stepping into the fireplace, hoping he'd change his mind, only to sigh when he continued reading.

* * *

Violetta had returned from Diagon Alley early, her arms laden with packages, but they didn't bring her the satisfaction new robes usually did. When she spotted Marius by the fire, curled into a tight ball with his head buried in his arms, she thrust them into the awaiting house-elf's arms and ran over to him.

"Marius? What happened?" she asked, bending down and gently tugging on his arms. His breathing was shorter than usual, and she looked around to see if she'd left any flowers lying around again. "Is it your allergies?"

He shook his head, lifting it enough for her to see his red-rimmed eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"Did you fall over? Are you hurt?" Her eyes darted over him, looking for some sort of injury. She continued trying to pull his arms away, but he refused to move. "Marius? Look at me. Did your father do something to you? Merlin, if he's dared to..."

"It's not father and it's not my allergies!" His normally pale face was a deep shade of crimson, and his eyes flashed as he looked at her.

She stood and moved back a few paces, shocked at the malice within his voice. "Marius, you know rudeness is not tolerated…"

"Sorry," he mumbled, but his chest was heaving up and down. "But I can't do anything right! I can't do spells! I can't make a stupid potion! "

Her face softened and she took a step closer. "It's okay, Marius. These things happen. I'll be there to help you, and even as we speak Healers are looking for remedies for allergies like yours—"

Marius fixed her with a glare that rivalled the ones Cygnus would give her, and scuttled away from her. "I think I'm allergic to you!"

Her heart skipped a beat. "Pardon?"

"Father's right; I'm weak! I'm a stupid, no good Squib who can't even do non-magical things without making a fool of myself. I'm pathetic, and it's all _your_ fault!"

Violetta blinked, feeling tears well in her eyes. Each word Marius spat felt like a stab to her heart. She shook her head, trying to calm herself.

"Marius, I assure you that none of this is my fault. I'm trying to help you, to make sure you're happy—"

"You're smothering me! You're making me weak! There are no flowers around here, you never take out your wand, you always tip-toe around Diagon Alley like you're frightened I'll start crying… Real wizards don't cry," he said, swiping at his eyes furiously.

"Marius… I'm only trying to help…"

"Don't! You're the one who makes me different; you're the one making me sick!" He stood up, wiping at his tears again, and stormed past her.

Her legs began to tremble as she felt the sting of his words. Turning around, she saw Marius squeeze past Cygnus, who was leaning against the door frame.

She pointed a shaking finger at him. "What did you do?"

Cygnus sighed. "I think that perhaps it's best if you did stay away from him, don't you? He's finally learning what it is to be a Black, and you're not doing him any favours."

"How dare you—I'm the only one—I've been trying to help him…" She looked from her husband, who had sat down to read his paper, to the door Marius had disappeared through.

Surely he didn't mean what he'd said? He loved her, didn't he?

Cygnus stuck his pipe in his mouth. Although his words were slightly muffled, the meaning was clear. "Didn't you hear him? He's allergic to you; he doesn't want you around."

Violetta collapsed into the nearest chair. Despite the fire warming up the room, she felt colder than she'd ever felt before.


End file.
